Untitled @putataskayo - Tumblr Blog

i have a friend who has kinda bad eczema on their right hand but their left hand is fine and thats because acidity makes eczema worse and that includes vaginal acidity and my friend is both a lesbian and a slut so they finger a lot of people and that fucks up the hand they use (their right hand). Anyways do you think BBC sherlock would deduce that by looking at my friend’s hands

sanjidysphoria

nothing couldve prepared me for the last sentence

vivianblue

I made this art to advertise this Shaker Charm Concept:

dbandbanart

Maya Fey & Mia Fey

ex-trident

korsica

write-it-motherfuckers

You knew you should have walked away as soon as you saw the massive wolf lying there, for anything that could harm such a powerful creature so badly, was bound to take your life with a terrifying ease.

Still, something in you ached at the sight, and against your better judgement, you decided to intervene.

It had taken quite some time to convince your horse to get close enough to the downed beast, that you could get it up into your cart, a feat you still weren’t quite sure how you’d managed, even with the assistance of your magic. Even then, the cart had groaned and creaked dangerously the entire way home, relief flooding you once you were finally able to remove the wolf from the worn old thing.

After depositing the injured creature onto the ground in an embarrassingly graceless manner, one you were glad it had been unconscious for, you had once again used your magic to bring it inside, and out of the elements, something you’d ended up needing to temporarily widen your doorway for. You highly doubted that any of the animals you owned, would be all too pleased at the idea of sharing your rickety old barn with such a terrifying beast.

Seeing how much space the creature had taken up in your decently sized cottage, had once again driven home just how large it was, your heart pounding nervously at the idea of sharing a space with it. Especially when it eventually woke up.

Despite that fear however, you were quick to get to work on its wounds, using a mix of herbs and magic as you went, hoping desperately that you weren’t too late to save it. Given the severity of its many wounds, it had ended up taking you well through the night and into the next morning, to get the wolf to a more stable state, your magic having had much more trouble healing them, than you had anticipated.

Exhausted, you had eventually managed to drag yourself off to bed, sleeping through the entire day and somewhat into the night, before you were awoken by a loud crashing sound.

For a moment, you were afraid that the townsfolk had somehow gotten past your protective wards and finally found your little house, your heart pounding with fear as your faded scars ached in memory of the last time they’d caught you unawares. It was only once you had frantically reached out with your magic and confirmed that the wards were still in place, that you remembered the events of the day before, a new type of fear taking hold in your heart.

Swiftly covering your sleepwear with a faded, but soft, silk robe, you tentatively opened up your door, apprehensively peering into your living room to see what the source of the noise was. Though your heart quickly began to pound as you registered what you were seeing.

In place of the massive white wolf you had been expecting, was the form of an equally large “man”, bearing the very same injuries. The overturned table that laid beside him, was obviously the source of the noise that had woken you up, the “man” most likely having tried and failed to use it to stand.

Even as badly injured as he was, you could feel the waves of power practically rolling off of his slumped form, and instantly you cursed your soft hearted nature.

It was just your luck, that you had gone and accidentally brought an injured God into your home.

inconsolable-archfiend1025

⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

He trembles and lets out a sharp exhale, before promptly putting his hand over his mouth and leaning against the edge of the corridor, barely having the strength to stand. He knew of the gods, of course he did. After all, he himself was being that used magic. But to see one in real life? Few mortals beheld the gods of the old, fewer came back sane; and most of them didn’t come back at all.

The god suddenly sat straight, hissing as he did so. “Come out.”

The voice paralyzed him, and sent him into a state of panic.

His instincts told him to flee. It told him to run from the predator a few feet away from him.

His mind told him to lock it up in the barn, pack up his possessions, and disappear once more from the face of the earth. It told him that today was not the day to tempt fate, and escape while given the chance.

The magic running in his veins told him to kill the god while he was weakened. It recoiled against the primal power the god held, and it didn’t trust other kinds of magic so easily, especially not one belonging to a divine being.

But his heart, his damned soft heart, who got him into this mess in the first place hesitated. His heart regarded the overturned table and saw not the huge claw mark on it, but the few measly splinters on the god’s hand. His heart perceived the tight width of his shoulders, the aggressive stance and saw not the wrath of a divine being, but the desperation of a wounded animal.

It didn’t matter what he told himself anyway. He had been standing there frozen for too long.

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All of these are free to use with credit!